Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Friday, July 12, 2013
Remembering Neruda
"Wakening from the dreaming forest there, the hazel-sprig
sang under my tongue, its drifting fragrance
climbed up through my conscious mind
as if suddenly the roots I had left behind
cried out to me, the land I had lost with my childhood–
and I stopped, wounded by the wandering scent."
¡Feliz cumpleaños pablo!
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